


Just My Type

by bluecranes



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, Bullying, Knifeplay, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, Pre-Game Personalities (New Dangan Ronpa V3), Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 13:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15462636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluecranes/pseuds/bluecranes
Summary: Shuichi Saihara has a bad habit. He gets obsessed with things and never lets them go. First, it was Danganronpa, and now he has a new bad habit he can't seem to kick. But this time it's a person. And they're named Kokichi Ouma.





	Just My Type

**Author's Note:**

> This was my piece for #58 for the Saiouma Exchange on Tumblr. They wanted "horror, or something twisted." What started out as a little ficlet exploded into a full on one shot. I had fun writing this with my partner, and we hope you enjoy it! If you're squeamish about blood, needles, or knives, stop now. Otherwise, please enjoy the show!

Why was his breathing so heavy? Shuichi didn’t know why he couldn’t stop the racing in his chest.

Stay cool. Don’t let him see you.

The better, smarter idea for Shuichi Saihara, was to leave school, go home, and do his homework. Maybe then he’d actually get something done before getting wrapped up in yet another episode of his favorite show. But Shuichi wasn’t exactly the most reasonable of people, and his first afterschool past time involved something slightly more sinister.

The blue haired boy paced back and forth as he waited for the object of his affection to finally to leave school. His eyes were alert and on guard, watching with bated breath to see a flash of purple in the distance. To any onlooker, it would look like he was waiting for someone, or just loitering around.

Well, he was waiting for someone.

The thing was, Shuichi knew what he was doing was slightly (extremely) unethical, but he couldn’t exactly beat the habit. The parking lot was mostly empty, save for a few teacher’s cars here and there. It was nearly spring, with the weather being warm and light. Shuichi peeled his jacket off, holding it in his arms and moving closer to a pillar so he wouldn’t be seen by who he knew would eventually come out.

It wasn’t exactly a secret that Shuichi Saihara was obsessed with Kokichi Ouma. A secret to everyone except Kokichi of course.

Kokichi, who was trying to get the hell out of the school as quickly as possible. Every day someone was waiting to torment him outside of those doors. If he was lucky, it’d only be a few of them. On bad days…

Well, he’d just hope that today wasn’t a bad day.

As soon as he pushed open the doors he scanned the parking lot, double checking his surroundings to make sure he wasn’t being followed. Ouma always took his secret route home, one that was difficult for bullies to follow. He saw something move behind a pillar near the edge of the lot but was quickly sidetracked by a flash of green that came stalking towards him.

A deep voice chuckled lowly, clearing his throat as he interrogated Ouma. The taller figure smirked and gripped the small boy by the backpack.

"Ah...and just where do you think you're going without our after school fun, Ouma-kun?" his dark green eyes flickered with a bit of evil as he gripped tighter and he yanked him backward.

Ouma made a small noise as he was grabbed and fell backward once pulled to the ground.

Ouch.

The young frazzled boy didn't land gracefully, his books landing on the ground and his backpack thrown aside.

 "H-home...?" he whimpered and started to scoot away from his assailant.

 "Aw, but home isn't any fun when you could be here with me," he stood over him and stared him down.

 "You mean you don't like hanging out with me, Ouma-kun?" Amami Rantarou might be the prettiest boy in school but he had the nastiest attitude, at least towards Ouma. He was known throughout the school to be quite popular, being a model in his free time and even playing a few varsity sports. He was a third year, someone who should’ve had much better things to do with his time rather than bully a second year. But he kept coming back to this spot, just to wait for Ouma.

 He never understood Amami. And why the hell would Ouma like hanging out with Amami?

 "N-not r-r-really..." Ouma’s voice got quieter with every word. “In particular...no..” he trailed off, and even though he got beat up a lot, he wasn’t one to just let the bullies hear what they wanted from him. And that’s what really pissed them off. He tried to zip through Amami’s legs, but that was obviously not going to work. His senior gripped him between his legs and yanked him up by his hair.

 "Hey. Hey. Do you remember why you got that bloody lip last week? It's because you're always talking back. Why the hell do you have to act like such a sniveling little brat?" his breathing sped up, his fury only building in waves as he continued to look at the other boy’s pathetic frame.

 The cornered boy cried out as he tried to fight free but to no avail. His small frame limited just how much he could do, especially with someone who had nearly a foot on him.

 "If you hate me so much, then why don't you just hit me huh? Or are you just gonna go call mommy and daddy on me?" he taunted him, before finally releasing him.

 "I-I don’t h-hate you...! I-I just d-d-dislike... you..."

 Meanwhile, Shuichi watched on in anticipation, waiting for the moment that Ouma would get hit or for when Amami would really start to taunt him. He imagined all of the ways he'd save him, the possibilities racing through his mind. He thinks of all of the things he'd say, and how he'd break Amami's skull for just looking at Ouma like that.

The young detective gets a sick satisfaction from just imagining it. And he smiled more to himself as he hid further behind one of the pillars. He couldn’t risk getting caught now.

 Amami couldn’t understand why Ouma didn’t hate him. After he came out last year the rest of Ouma’s bullies stopped hanging out with him. He stopped being wildly popular and scary because he was gay. Everyone else hates him.

 Why the hell couldn't this kid?

 "Haha what, are you afraid you're going to catch my gay?" he lunged towards him to scare him. "Then come on! why the hell won't you run? Do something!" he hissed at him.

 Kokichi flinched but he didn’t run. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he looked at Amami’s twisted expression. It was obvious that there was something inside of him that he was taking out on him. That he was channeling all of his own hatred and the hatred of others onto him.

 "I-I’m n-not scared o-of that!!" It’s the loudest Ouma’s voice had risen all day. He doesn’t raise his voice often but when he does, people can tell he is serious. How could he be afraid of Amami for that? He knew he liked boys too. So he couldn’t possibly hate Amami for that.

 It would just be too cruel.

 "A-and I know th-that by d-doing something y-you're just g-going to d-do something back!!"

 Amami swallowed back his distaste, glaring the shorter boy down. He knew that panicked look in Ouma's eyes. It was familiar to his own when he realized the truth about himself. He’d probably always known about Ouma, and perhaps that’s why he always targeted him. To take out what he couldn't get out on himself on other people.

 "Just..get the hell out of here," he said as he shoved him and went towards his car, getting in, and slamming the door. There was no way he was dealing with this right now. Or ever, really.

 Ouma fell to the ground again after being shoved and watched Amami leave the parking lot in his car before he getting up and brushing himself off. He made sure everything in his backpack was okay before getting up and making his way back to his house.

 Of course, as soon as Ouma began to move again, Shuichi started to follow his trail once again, just like he did every day after school. He followed this secret path stealthily and quietly, making sure not to arouse suspicion. He always kept his distance when he walked, never getting too close. The aura surrounding him was dark, heavy and made his shoulders feel dense. Every time he did this, he felt a certain sort of power, always being able to watch over Ouma, but never touch him. Since he couldn’t talk to him, he had resigned to talking to the recorder he had started to carry with him.

 "Day 500. He still hasn't noticed me..."

 There was a creeping sensation crawling down Ouma’s back, and it always lingered there, taunting him and reminding him that he’s never truly alone. His body is always warning him, signaling to him that something is wrong, but he never listens to it. Despite this feeling, he ignores it, just like he always done.

 Dodging through bushes and squeezing around a fence, he made his way back to his planned path. His wounds stung, and he lifted his hand to his mouth to lick away the blood. It was an odd, comforting sensation, and he licked again to taste the copper once more. It lingered on his tongue.

 Shuichi continued walking as he stalked behind him, his whispered breath drifting in the audio recorder.

 "It’s weird. It's almost like he walks at a pace that's far enough for him to not notice me, but never close enough that I could say hi to him. I feel like he knows...oh god what if he knows?" he whispered harshly into the mic, as he watched him lick at his wounds and make his way into his very large house. He quickly hid behind his trash can and watched him go inside, shutting the door, and locking it like he always did.

  _“Oh god, what if he knows?”_

 Ouma replayed the voice in his head, and it sounded familiar. Not familiar enough for him to place exactly who it was, so he’d have to go and find out on his own. He gathered a few materials from his room before sneaking out the back door and seeing the person of interest crouched behind the trash can. They were dressed in what looked like a school uniform, and a black cap.

 Shuichi stood and stretched, looking down at his watch for the time and finishing his recorder diary.

 "Okay. Mission complete." he states with satisfaction, his eyes watching the blinking red light on his recorder.

 "Geez. What was wrong with Amami-kun today? He really seemed off... I thought for sure that he was going to really hurt my beloved Ouma-kun. If he would've...I would've stopped him this time. I definitely would have..." he whispered quietly to himself, causing Ouma to tilt his head in confusion.

 He saw all that?

 The person of interest kept walking past his house and muttering to themself, making Ouma intrigued. They’re cute. And he wants to know more about them. Have they really been the one following him home every day for the past two years?

 With his decision made, he quickly grabbed the person from behind, took out his syringe with a numbing serum, and swiftly and carefully injected it into their neck. The pressure point would target their nervous system in a matter of seconds. After injecting the serum, almost as if he forgot about it until now, he shoved a handkerchief into their mouth so they couldn’t scream and alert the neighborhood.

 Shuichi could feel his world turning upside down, his body being dragged with no hope of moving on his own. He was paralyzed, and despite how much he tried to scream, he was rendered useless. He wondered if he would die here, mugged and carried off to some kidnapper’s basement. Would his uncle come for him? Thoughts bounced around in his mind as he continued to scream against the gag in his mouth. His anxiety only rose as he was dragged further, his skin crawling with fear. He could feel the pressure of the person pulling him, and they were struggling. But no matter how much Shuichi wanted to fight back, he found himself hyperventilating, his quick and shallow breaths leading him into a dark oblivion.

 The sensation of being kidnapped rendered him unconscious, and he sank into cold darkness.

* * *

 

Shuichi jolted awake, feeling his body slowly coming back into reality. He had lost consciousness, but for how long? He looked around the room for a clock and saw on the wall that it was about 45 minutes past the end of school. Which mean that he hadn’t been out for too long…

 He couldn’t imagine what kind of person would have done this to him in such a quiet neighborhood. His eyes scanned the room, analyzing the different aspects of the bedroom and noticing that it was quite messy, with what looked like clothes strewn about the room. The scent and feel of the room were almost...familiar? He assessed his situation. Shuichi was handcuffed to a bedpost, and he was still gagged. The poorly lit walls were a shade of dark purple, and there were posters around the room. One of them had a familiar shape to it, and he squinted at it to try to get a better look.

 Was that Danganronpa?

 Before he could gather his thoughts, he heard humming coming from a side room.

 The bathroom was somewhat poorly lit, the cracked mirror disfiguring the young boy's reflection. He wore a small surgical mask with a bear mouth on the front, the nose being pink and whimsical. The little smile drawn on it was mischievous, and as his tired eyes looked up into his reflection, one could tell he was up to absolutely no good.

 He sanitized the blade, rinsing it in an antiseptic and drying it off. He thought about the boy in the other room, briefly wondering where he knew him from. He was about his age and seemed familiar, but honestly, he barely remembered any of his current classmates’ faces. Why couldn’t he make long, lasting relationships with others? They ostracized him, and pushed him out, constantly leaving him feeling alone and lost. He tried not to mind, but the constant torment from his peers left him with little left to salvage of his own sanity.

 He sanitized his own wounds on his hands and wrists and bandaged them, the fabric wrapping tightly against his skin. He managed to give himself a few scrapes while dragging his captive up to his room, but it was nothing a little antiseptic and bandaids couldn’t fix. He was excited, nervous almost to meet the person that had been stalking him all this time. Who were they? And what the hell did they want with him?

 He slowly walked out of the bathroom, taking quiet steps and seeing Shuichi’s face more clearly. Shuichi, on the other hand, was panicking, still tugging his wrists against the handcuffs that restrained him. Whoever was keeping him hostage had done a pretty solid job of keeping him in place, and no matter how much he tried to tug against the metal bedpost, it was fruitless. His breathing was more labored, panicked as he watched the figure come closer and closer. His eyes whipped around the room, searching for an escape before they landed on the small school uniform that was resting on the chair.

 Someone who went to his school?

 The more he looked around the room the more things began to make sense. But the reason why someone from his school would have kidnapped him doesn’t. Despite the figure walking towards him, he still analyzed the room, seeing the half mangled stuffed animals that appear to have been “operated” on. A few pillows and blankets were strewn about the bed, and it seemed like a place that was used often. Homey. Why would anyone bring him to a place like this? It didn’t seem like the room of a serial killer...

 Though the sight of the brush with purple strands of hair in it resting on the nightstand seemed to set him off. This was definitely the room of someone he knew.

  _“O-Ouma-kun? Ouma-kun!”_ he called out desperately through the gag, hoping that this fantasy that his mind had created wasn’t true.

 Or did he secretly want it to be?

 "I-I see you're awake! Th-that's good. It would be bad if I killed you."

 The voice is all Shuichi needed to confirm that his deductions were right and this was, in fact, the room of Kokichi Ouma. His eyes sparkled with a childlike wonder and he stopped struggling to admire the angelic face that came into view. Ouma leaned over and turned on a lamp, illuminating the room and his own face. He pulled down the mask ever so slightly to speak.

 “D..do I..know you?”

 Shuichi’s face indicated that he certainly knew Ouma, his eyes sparkled with a light that could only mean just that. His mind was a whirlwind of emotion with so many words that he wanted to say. It was a few moments before he realized his mouth was still gagged, and it was obvious that Ouma soon realized the same.

 “O-oh! S-sorry about that. Y-you’re in my class! S-Shuichi Saihara! S-sorry I didn't recognize you until now..." he spoke quietly, as his arms reached up to remove the gag. His sleeves were riding up, revealing the various bandages lining his arms.

 "I-I couldn’t h-have you yelling... i-it would be bad..."

 Shuichi drooled a bit as the gag was removed, but he managed a smile.

 "Ouma-kun..." he breathed dreamily, leaning forward.

 "It's you..you've come to save me, haven't you?” he said before things started to really settle in.

 "W..wait. you did this to me?"

 Ouma smiled behind the mask and nodded, his eyes bright with pride for his own handiwork. "Y-yeah! I-I did! A-all on my own!" he beamed, before his eyes went cold and harsh, his face turning scary. The tone of his voice dropped, and he stared intensely at Shuichi with vitriol. "Besides. You were stalking me."

 "I..." he couldn’t deny that he was doing that.

 "Well. You didn't have to knock me out and drag me here! You could've...just told me to go away!" he says indignantly, his voice rising before falling at the realization that he’s in Ouma’s room, all tied up. It has lewd implications that made his cheeks turn red from embarrassment. He doesn’t try to hide it. He has all of Ouma’s attention now.

"...But now that I'm here...I have what I want. S..so... you're finally paying attention to me. My beloved...Kokichi."

"I-I didn’t know i-it was you until now! H-how could I have a-asked!" The fact that Shuichi wasn’t totally weirded out yet made Ouma curious and his train of thought shifted slightly. "...Y-you... could have t-told me..." the purple haired boy whispered back, moving closer to him on the bed.

"That I liked you? There's no way!" he shook his head. The concept was completely out of the question, as this crush had gone on long past the baby stages. He was convinced that he was completely and irrevocably in love with Kokichi Ouma, and nothing was changing that.

"You're...you're _Ouma Kokichi_ ," he whispered quietly like a prayer, as he stared back at him as if he were a god.

 "And I'm just Shuichi Saihara. There's absolutely nothing special about me." Nothing special except for the fact that he used his detective skills to find out where Ouma lived and exactly what time he finished with his after-school programs and what side of the school he leaves out of and--

 Yeah. He did his research.

 "I-I’m the n-nobody! I-I get b-bullied every day! Th-there's nothing s-special about me..." Ouma whimpered, his eyes going dark once again. There were no redeeming qualities that Ouma saw in himself. He was just...weird and liked to see people bleed and squirm. "...Wh-why me?" he finally settled on asking.

 "You're interesting. Everyone else at school is boring. And normal. But you. You looked like you had an interesting secret." Shuichi admitted as he leaned forward ever so slightly to move closer to Ouma’s face.

 "What's your secret, my beloved Kokichi?" his voice lilted with a melodious tone, and as he looked over he noticed a series of knives that Ouma had brought up with him from this bathroom. Something in his stomach stirred and he couldn’t tell if the feeling was a good or bad one. Part of him felt terrified, his pulse quickening and his heart racing. The other part felt excited, and that showed as much with his cheeks only darkening beneath Ouma’s intense gaze. Did the detective have a crush on a serial killer after all?

 "I-it's... not interesting..." he muttered as he rolled up his sleeve to show the bandages, covered in a variety of different colors and cartoons.

 "I-I just... like to bleed..." He laughed awkwardly, but there was a bit of a wild look in his eyes. Ouma had an affinity for making himself bleed, not to punish himself or really inflict real injury, but simply his fascination with the human body.

 "I-I’ve n-never had to chance t-to make someone else bleed, t-though..." he looked back at Shuichi with a determined look in his eyes.

 "S-so you’ll be my first."

 Shuichi could feel his heart racing faster as he looked back at Ouma with a wild gaze to match.

 "Please make me bleed. You can use up as much of my blood as you like." Frantically, he glanced across the room and finally verified the contents of the poster he eyed earlier. A gasp escaped his lips as his eyes widened.

 "...you like Danganronpa too?" It’s a rather weird thing in his school and even though he headed the club it only has a few people in it. Ouma wasn’t one of them.

 "I-I-I-I...! M-m-maybe!!" he squeaked back, stuttering uncontrollably as he looked between Shuichi and the poster. He wasn’t quite sure if it was a good or bad thing to confirm for the wild-eyed detective.

 "I... love. Danganronpa. Its always been my dream to be on that show. To be in such a thrilling game… and be completely changed to have an amazing talent. The mystery. The drama. The bloodshed." he emphasized the last part, his eyebrows wagging in excitement.

 "Nothing is cooler than Danganronpa."

 "M...me too... th-that's why I...I-I like blood..." Ouma laughed nervously, before continuing in a bit of a frenzy. "I-it’s always censored though! I-I want to know what it really looks like!" His voice rose another octave as he spoke. His desire to see the uncensored gore is just another reason why he’s always hurting himself.

 Shuichi’s eyes glittered with a sense of wonder as he tugged on the cuffs keeping him to the bed.

 "Then do it." he looked up at his handcuffed arm, then back to Ouma.

 "..Maybe give me another anesthetic though? It kind of looks like it'll hurt."

 "O-of course!! I-I don’t want to h-hurt you too badly..." he said apologetically, before going towards his bedside drawer to dig through it. He ended up deciding on painkiller pills and not another needle.

 But after a few seconds of deliberation, he decided that maybe he should just go with a needle. At least, he should ask the person who’s going to be needing it.

 "D-do you want another injection? O-or..."

 "Needles are quicker. It's okay. I trust you. We're... We're friends now. Right?" he smiled at him, wanting any kind of validation. Shuichi never really felt wanted or needed, constantly seeking attention from wherever he could get it. And when he couldn’t find it, he ended up deep in his own mind, creating fantasies and seeking out ways to make them come true. This was never in his plans, and he never dreamed that something like this would happen.

 But to see Ouma use him as entertainment to see blood for their mutual love of Danganronpa? That would be enough for him.

 Ouma nodded, slowly at first, before moving faster.

 "Y-yeah. Yeah!" He prepared the needle before he looked at Shuichi to make sure he was ready.

 "I-I'll put it in your arm this time." he said, as he pressed the needle into Shuichi’s arm to numb him. The blue haired boy shuddered at the feeling of the needle going into his arm, injecting the local anesthetic beneath his skin and numbing him.

 "Kinda feels weird..." he mumbled, staring as his arm went limp. "It's only my arm this time?"

 Ouma nodded again nervously, almost sheepish at his response.

 “Y-yeah. I-I... w-want you to still... f-feel the rest..." he said quietly, as he placed the syringe on the bedside table. "I-is that okay?"

 Of course there were a million thoughts a minute going through Shuichi’s mind as he swallowed and nodded back.

 "If...that's what my beloved Kokichi wants. Then anything is okay, of course!" He smiled back wholeheartedly. He wanted to make Ouma happy no matter what the cost, even if that cost was his blood. All of his time outside of school was planning on how he was going to make Ouma happy. How he was going to convince him that his love was true and that there was nothing that was going to stop him from loving him. This is his chance to prove it.

 "Take care of me okay~" he teased, his smile never faltering.

 "I-I will! Th-this shouldn't hurt, b-but you might feel s-some pressure..." he grabbed his knife again, the amethyst color reflecting in the light of his lamp. It wasn’t one of the surgical knives he had stolen from his parents, but rather a special one that he saved for himself. He hovered over Shuichi’s arm, biting his lip as he tried to get his mind to focus. But no matter what he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to cut into the skin. He could feel panic slowly bubbling up into his throat.

 It was always so easy on himself.

 Why couldn’t he just do it?

 "It's okay. You can do it. I can handle it. If I can't... I'll tell you."

 Ouma’s hands were already shaking, and he was gripping the blade so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

 "I-I-I..." his breathing grew heavy and it was obvious that things weren’t looking too good for him. His voice quivered as he stared at Shuichi’s unmarred skin, and the glinting knife hovering precariously above it. "I-I-I-I... d-d-don’t know..."

 There was a beat of silence before Shuichi made Ouma an offer.

 "Hey. Can you uncuff my hands? Promise I won't run away. I'm gonna help." He at least wanted to have one working hand to comfort the other boy with. Despite this, his request fell on deaf ears. Ouma dropped the knife to the floor, the metal clattering as it struck the ground.

 "I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’msorryI’msorry!" he rambled off as he quickly stepped away from the bed and covered his face with his hands.

 Shuichi was mostly unphased, curiously tilting his head as he watched Ouma backpedal.

 "I-I’m sorry. Did I upset you? If I did you can hurt me even worse. You can do whatever you want to me, Kokichi. Just don't be upset. I want to see you smile. I want to make you happy. D..don't cry. You're all that matters to me..." he said, his breath shaky.

 "Please? Talk to me...tell me why...you're afraid."

 "N-n-no!! I-it's not y-your fault!" Ouma said as he moved away to breathe but then moved forward to uncuff Shuichi. He stepped back again, doing an awkward dance between Shuichi and the door to escape his room.

 "I-I-I...I don’t want t-to hurt you..."

 Despite his one arm being useless, Shuichi looked at him and smiled empathetically.

 "It's okay! This arm is numb. As soon as you cut me and see all the cool stuff, you can just bandage me up. Just do a little one." He reached for Ouma's hand and made him trace a line with his finger across his skin.

 "Rightttt...here."

 Shuichi’s skin was so soft, and Ouma began fixating on the blue veins that ran beneath his skin like rivers. He always imagined what it would be like to cut across a big one, but he knew that could be dangerous. Despite Shuichi’s efforts to make him feel better, Ouma was still at a loss of what to do.

 "C-can you do it y-yourself first..?"

 "Myself?" he reached out for the blade, picking it up from the floor between his foot and held it in his hand.

 "U-um..yeah. Yeah. I can do it." He's tried it once before, but he never did it again. "It’s no problem." Oops, he meant for that to come out a lot more confident than it did.

 Shuichi took it in his hand and flipped it over, looking at his reflection before taking a deep breath.

 "..Okay."

 He looked to Ouma, who was even prettier up close. His eyes were the color of violets, radiating an odd sense of curiosity and wonder as he watched Shuichi turn the blade over in his hand. Gold melded with violet and he could feel everything else in the room fading away as he idly pressed the knife to his skin.

 "...you're really pretty, Ouma-kun." He said in a daze, his eyes fogging over as he drags the blade against his skin. Ouma’s eyes are intoxicating, pulling him in deeper as he slowly forgets that he’s cutting through his skin. Blood slowly trickled down his arm, dripping onto the hardwood floor. “So… beautiful… haha…”

 The distraction catches both of them off guard, leaving Ouma blushing before he notices that Shuichi is cutting.

 “S-Shuichi! W-wait!” Ouma cried out as he grabbed at the knife in Shuichi's’ hands. “I-if you go a-any harder you’ll need stitches!” As skilled as Ouma was at bandaging himself up, stitches were something he didn’t really care to do.

 The blood was running slowly, oozing out of his arm and Shuichi barely knew what to do or think. His mind was in a faraway place, and he could feel himself slowly starting to feel lightheaded. Blinking slowly, he looked at Ouma with a dopey smile, laughing as he noticed his concern.

 "O-oh..hahah.." The magenta blood streamed down his forearm as he held it out.

 "Look.." The drop held the attention of his eyes as it fell and splattered against the floor.

 "I'm bleeding."

 All Ouma could do was stare at the drop as it fell and splattered against the ground. It made something twist inside him, not in the way his anxieties or fears normally do. This twist felt good. It felt warm, in a way. In a way doing this to himself could never make him feel.

 “Y-yeah… y-you are…” he idly mumbles as he smears his thumb across the trail on Shuichi's arm.

 The way Ouma was touching him made Shuichi feel warm and tingly and just seeing

Ouma touch his blood in such a way made him crave more. He licked his lips in anticipation, his wide eyes staring up at Ouma. A shiver went down his spine as he looked at Ouma’s intense gaze.

 "Isn't it cool? I’ve never really just let it go like this...I wonder how long it would take for me to bleed out of something as small as this." he murmured, before looking back at the wound they had inflicted together.

 “Super cool.”

 Ouma absentmindedly nods at Shuichi’s murmurs, still staring at the blood smeared across his skin. Letting curiosity take control, he lifts his thumb to his mouth and licks at the magenta stain. It still tastes like iron, like blood, but it doesn’t taste like his own. It tastes different.

 He likes it. He wants more.

 Golden eyes locked onto Ouma’s frame, watching and feeling as his tongue flicked against his skin. His pupils dilated as watches him lick the blood. The pink liquid disappeared from his skin like magic. Absentmindedly he reached for the blade once again, wanting to feel Ouma’s tongue sweep across his skin once more.

 “Should I do it again? I can do more. Whatever you want, Ouma-kun." he says absently, flipping the blade and pressing the edge into his skin.

 As soon as he sees Shuichi motion to start again Ouma panics and grips his arm.

 "N-not yet!! l-let me clean this one first..."

 "O-oh! Okay. Sorry. Got too excited...haha." He put the blade down on the bed and watched Ouma move to gather supplies. Grabbing gauze, bandages and antiseptic, Ouma prepared to clean the shallow wound before pausing.

 "...C...can I...?"

 "You can do whatever...you want. Or need to." Shuichi gave him a nod of encouragement.

 Ouma swallowed nervously before leaning in again and following the trail of blood with his tongue, flicking his tongue out and lapping at the blood once again. It was a bitter, interesting taste, and he continued his ministrations until the blood trail was gone. Shuichi was mesmerized at how eager Ouma seemed, lapping up his blood like a sweet nectar. He briefly wondered if Ouma was secretly a vampire, and desperately wanted him to bite him and sink his fangs into him. His mind was quickly getting away from him, clearly.

 "S-sorry!! I-I'll clean it up now..."

 As much as Ouma would love to do it again, he could tell that Shuichi’s eager smile meant that he would let him do this all night, even if he were to pass out from blood loss. He didn’t want to take advantage of his… “kindness.”

 He wiped the wound clean of blood and saliva, disinfecting the area while doing so. He wrapped a bandage around his arm neatly, making sure the corners were tucked and it wasn’t tied too tightly.

 The bandage would remind Shuichi of his beloved when they were no longer together, and with that thought, he beamed and rubbed his fingers against the fabric affectionately.

 "..thank you. You're very good at this. it's because your parents are doctors, right?"

 "Y-yeah... th-they’re how I get h-half of this stuff..." He tended to hurt himself a lot, so they no longer wanted to bother to keep treating him. They taught him to take care of himself, at least until professional help was needed.

 "That's cool. You're so cool, Ouma-kun. The absolute coolest!" His eyes sparkled with respect and awe. He really finds Ouma amazing, despite the little amount of true information he knew about him. His obsessive nature had created a twisted sense of love in his heart, and as much as he wants to believe he’s in love with him, it’s really little more than a shallow admiration.

 "You know that? You're so smart too. Probably the smartest in our whole class." Despite the cloud of fantasy Shuichi has in his mind, he’s paid Ouma a lot of attention at school. His study habits, the way he answers questions, and even his test scores. (How he acquired that information is a secret.)

 "Y-y-you're lying!!" Ouma squeaked, unable to accept the compliment. Despite his rejection, he was still blushing, a surefire sign that he appreciated the praise. "I-I’m just... a f-freak..."

 "Why would I lie?" Beaming, he took his hand and squeezed it.

 "You really are..the best!" Shuichi’s smile only grew, his eyes wild with a passion that he shows for little else besides the things he’s most interested in. "You're the cutest guy in the whole school. I've never seen anyone as cute as you are..and...and that's why I've been in love with you for the past two years!" The words come flying out of his mouth before he can reel them back in and he’s blushing, the blood rushing to his cheeks and making his entire body hot.

 Ouma makes a nearly indistinguishable noise at the sudden confession, nearly throwing himself back and running out the door.

 "B-b-but y-you barely know me!!" Although he certainly is flattered that someone thinks so highly of him.

 But maybe Ouma was on to something. Shuichi barely knows him. Before today, he had probably spoken about 3 sentences to him in the past 2 years. But that was all the reason to get to know him better, right?

 "Even if I barely know you...I think you’re a really cool person...and...I want to get to know you! So I can prove that being in love with you was right!" His motives are a bit twisted, but he’s desperate to have this chance, to know the true Kokichi Ouma if he’d let him.

 Slowly, Ouma nods as he makes sense of what Shuichi was saying. "O-okay..."

 Even after seeing him at his worst, Shuichi still claims to love Ouma, so maybe he should give him a chance. Maybe he’s right.

 "W...what d-do you want t-to do now...?"

 A mischievous glint flickered in Shuichi’s eyes as he scooted closer to him and leaned in with a crazed look.

 "Wanna watch Danganronpa and have a sleepover?"

 The mention of Ouma’s favorite series forms a smile on the young boy’s face. A sleepover solidifies it. "Y-yeah! I’ve n-never had a sleepover before..."

 "Me either, but it sounds fun!" He's never exactly been a social butterfly. His last birthday party consisted of him, his uncle, and 3 of his favorite stuffed animals. 2 of the stuffed animals didn’t even show up.

 "We're gonna be best friends forever!” he giggled happily, before leaping onto his shoulders and hugging him tightly. He pressed their cheeks together, reveling at how warm and flushed they were from all of the excitement.

 Like a toy, Ouma squeaks when squeezed, but hugs back after a moment of hesitation. "R-really...? S-sounds fun...!" He had never had any friends, given the hobbies and interests he's had, so he’s more than happy to have someone to hang out with.

 The rest of the evening was spent with the boys wrapped in Ouma’s favorite blanket, and a binge of Shuichi’s favorite season, the very first. He revealed to his new “friend” that his favorite character was Kyouko Kirigiri, and that he had actually cosplayed her last year. They shared theories, headcanons, and found out that the two of them had more in common than they previously believed.

 After a while, Ouma ended up dozing off on Shuichi’s lap. Moving a blanket over them both, he settled down and joined the object of his affections in the dream world.  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you want to scream at me about Pregame Shuichi or Ouma headcanons, 1v1 me on twitter @flyhinata. : )


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